


Death and the Maiden

by runrarebit



Series: Misfits Moments [11]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: AU, Alternate Timeline, Bottom!Nathan, Dead!Nathan, Fingering, M/M, Nathan trying to be romantic, Nathan trying to get his cherry popped, Oral Sex, Simon keeps dead bodies in chest freezers, Structurally weird fic, humping, mention of enemas, mention of murder, some stuff related to consent issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:45:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runrarebit/pseuds/runrarebit
Summary: Happens during episode 1 of season 2, continuity wise not long afterSimon Versus the Unexpected Third DateNathan wants his cherry popped, an endeavour which is slightly complicated by the shapeshifter running around being all obsessed with his boyfriend.





	Death and the Maiden

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank you all for wishing my dog well. She's doing a bit better- actually a lot better than she was that night I posted the last fic- but she's been sick for the last year or so and we're still not sure what's going on with her, or what will happen in the next few weeks, so things are still kind of up in the air.
> 
> Anyway, here we have another fic. I'm not quite sure about the structure of this one, but part of writing is experimenting. I hope you like it!

Any bloke would be anxious about their first time getting fucked up the arse, right? Not just ones whose—person that’s going to be doing the fucking— has a massively thick and intimidating cock. It’s not just him, is it? Like, he wants it, he _does,_ he’s just nervous. 

Simon’s not doing much to help with the anxiety to be honest. By which he mainly means Simon’s not really making a move, you know, trying to slip it in there while he’s distracted by getting his dick wanked, or getting him drunk and sloppy and going for it while he’s too relaxed and not quite conscious enough to freak out. That’s not to say the other man’s shown _no_ sign of interest. 

There’s been a bit of fingering, fingering’s good, he’s been doing a bit of fingering himself— not fingering Simon, but fingering his own arse— mainly because once he got brave enough to stick that one, lonesome finger up there and felt how good it feels he doesn’t really want to stop. So there’s been fingering, and once Simon came all over his calves while mouthing at his thighs and mumbling about eating his arse, and that was hot, even though his arse didn’t actually end up getting eaten. And a couple of nights ago, that was good, when they’d been humping, not _dry_ humping, but skin to skin, and somehow Simon’s cock had ended up between his thighs, underneath his balls, and the head of it kept rubbing back and forth over his anus and he was mewling something about ‘put it in,’ he knows he was, even though he didn’t really mean it because he wasn’t remotely stretched out yet, and then Simon had bleated something like ‘want to watch my spunk drip out of you,’ just before the man came all up his arsecrack.

So there is interest there— he’s just not quite sure what’s going wrong. 

He supposes they don’t actually have to have anal. He’s knows he’s good with his hands, so far he’s managed to make Simon cum in about five seconds, or drag it out to almost fifteen minutes, just playing with him, gentle, teasing strokes over the shaft— maybe sticking out his tongue every now and then for a naughty little lick. Or he could just suck Simon’s cock forever. He’s good at that too, and— well, he rather likes sucking cock— always has, the feel of it, the taste, the interesting ways it brushes against the sensitive parts of his mouth, watching the guy the cock’s attached to get all desperate and beggy. He supposes that’s why he’s done so much of it. 

Simon’s a bit thick though, makes his jaw hurt pretty soon, so he can’t really spend as much time _luxuriating_ in having it in his mouth as he’d like. 

He’s way better than Simon at least. So far, the two attempts the other has made in that department were mainly teeth and awkwardness and those pale eyes staring at him in a way that made him feel just as anxious as Simon looked. On the other hand, Simon is proving excellent with his hands as well. Especially the fingering. The fingering is— the night before Simon had gotten him on his lap on one of the chairs on the roof, the way they’re both coming to like, and by the time the other man had let him cum his arsehole had felt hot and swollen and he’d actually been crying, drooling all over everything. Hardly dignified on reflection— and he hadn’t even been able to return the favour, because Simon’d spunked in his trousers sometime partway through and had just kept going while ignoring it. 

So, yes, they don’t technically need to do anal, hands and mouths and all the excellent humping are doing well enough so far, the thing is that he _wants_ Simon’s scarily fat cock up his arse. How embarrassing and gay is that?

He remembers being a kid and their neighbour having this cat that they’d never bother getting fixed. It’d been a girl cat and he can remember what it’d get like when it was horny, flexing its body and wailing all the time, trying to get every boy cat that passed by to give it some dick— he kind of feels like that cat, but it’s not every boy cat, like, he can walk straight by Curtis, straight by their new Probation Worker, straight by everyone really, but Simon. Simon shows up and it’s like he’s seconds away from getting on his hands and knees, wagging his arse in the air, and demanding that the other man sticks his cock in him immediately. He should never have stuck that finger up his arse, he’d be fine if he just hadn’t done that. It’s like he’s got an addiction, but not a cool one, you know? Not like cocaine or heroin or something. It’s hardly like they’ve got Anal Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings, or if they have _he’s_ never heard of them.

He’s kind of worried that it’s him. That Simon’s not actually that into him, that he’s just playing along for all the excellent free sex— of course he does tell himself that if Simon was like that he’d have probably taken him up on at least one of his offers that night when all this trouble started, when Simon bought him all those drinks and was so lovely to him. A real gentleman. 

He thinks maybe he’s got reason to worry though, because every now and then Simon gets all starey off into the distance, or brooding, or jumpy when he comes up and flings some part of himself at the other man— usually his whole body. He does love to wrap his arms around those strong shoulders and pretty much hang off— well, ok, Simon’s his _boyfriend._ He might as well man-up and admit that to himself, if no one else. He does love to hang off his boyfriend. He likes the way Simon smells, his body warmth, the surprising strength hidden beneath all those button-up shirts. 

So, just in case Simon’s starting to regret everything, he’d better seal the deal soon. He’s pretty sure his boyfriend isn’t the sort of guy who’d just walk away after taking someone’s anal virginity. Especially an anal virginity like his, one he still miraculously has even though there have been several attempted assails on it. It’s kind of special, isn’t it? To give it up to the one he wants to take it.

He has a plan. The first step of this plan was to go out and do the most embarrassingly romantic thing he could think to do— get tested. Just in case it’s the condoms that are making Simon hesitate— he already knows the other man wants to bareback him, but he has been a bit of a slut, so maybe the other doesn’t want to risk catching anything. Surprise, surprise he’s actually clean. So that last round of antibiotics did the trick— he’d guessed they had, after he’d stopped pissing fire, but you can never really tell with these things without getting tested and he _hates_ getting tested. It’s such a hassle. 

So, he’s got his clean bill of health, he’s got it printed out and wrapped up nicely in some red ribbons to hand over to Simon, he’s got a nice, new bottle of lube, and he’s got himself an enema kit. Just in case. Like, he doesn’t know how Simon would handle getting his shit on his dick, but just in case it’s more of a turn-off than a turn-on— 

Tonight is the night. He hopes. They just need to get through community service and then— Well, he’ll offer up his cherry on a platter and hope his boyfriend wants to take a bite. Or else he might have to set fire to something himself. Or cry. Or go round his mum’s. 

Everything goes wrong though, pretty much from the moment he notices this girl mental patient from the art therapy class ogling his boyfriend. Like she’s got the right to do that! And maybe he is a bit rude to her but that’s _his_ boyfriend. _His._ He spends the rest of the time they’re painting over the mural hanging off Simon just in case anyone else gets any ideas about eyeing up his man. 

And then Simon has the nerve to ignore him all afternoon. It pisses him off.

Anyway, tonight is not the night. Tonight is the night he dies— Still an anal virgin. But, before he dies, he learns several things.

One, is that a huge amount of crazy shit can happen while you’re locked in the toilets trying to talk yourself into using an enema kit— and also while using one— and when you’re sitting on the toilet afterwards wondering at what’s become of your life. 

Two, Simon was avoiding him all afternoon because apparently Alisha tried to suck him off and he turned her down— but was freaked out and embarrassed by it and didn’t know how _he’d_ react. Also his boyfriend was apparently worried that he’d hurt her feelings, but then she’d been a massive bitch to him again, so all’s good. 

Three, is that apparently hearing that Alisha attempted to give his boyfriend a blow job— even if it wasn’t actually her and Simon stopped whoever it was before they even got his cock out— because he has a good and lovely and _loyal_ boyfriend who can apparently even resist head from a girl that looks like Alisha if he’s already in a relationship. Go him. He actually picked a winner, didn’t he?— can enrage him to the point he’ll actually threaten to rip her tits off if she comes near his boyfriend again. Even though he is not a violent man, and both Kelly and Curtis threaten to hurt him if he does so, as it wasn’t actually Alisha. 

Four, is that he will also threaten to knock Curtis’ teeth in if the man ever even thinks about attacking Simon again, let alone leaving him with a bloody lip and that look in his eyes. It’d required him to do a bit of cuddling and giving nasty looks before he felt Simon was adequately reassured about his value as a member of their little team.

Five, is that Three and Four will officially out his relationship with Simon to everyone else, even though everyone else apparently already new. Who’d have thought? Also, the rest of them don’t care, unless “Ew, sick, I don’t see what you see in him” addressed to Simon counts as caring, but he chooses to believe that it doesn’t.

Six, is that Simon killed their other probation worker because she found out they killed their first probation worker and was going to go to the police. Honestly he doesn’t care. Well, it is sort of nice that Simon didn’t want him to go to prison. Actually, it’s pretty romantic if he thinks about it too long. 

Seven, apparently killing the probation worker is the reason Simon’s been a bit funny around him. The other man apparently thought maybe he’d be disgusted or something and want to break up with him and was torturing himself about whether he should say something in case doing so meant that he freaked out and dumped him. At least he gets to put Simon straight about how much he doesn’t care and that it has no impact on their relationship.

Eight, they really need to stop killing probation workers. He’s glad Curtis was around to sort that one before it even happened.

Nine, Simon was briefly in a secure unit after trying to burn down that guy’s house. Makes sense. Makes less sense that Simon thought he might also reject him about this. No way, he’s in it for the long haul now. Also, he hates the idea of that creepy little weirdo being in there with him and having a crush on _his_ Simon. Simon is, as stated, _his._

Ten, is that being impaled onto a broken pipe by a shapeshifter that looks like your boyfriend is very, very painful and also a bit emotionally scarring. 

Eleven, is that seeing the look on your boyfriend’s face when he finds you impaled on a pipe and quite obviously dying is really quite heartbreaking. Simon had screamed for someone to call an ambulance, rushing in close and fluttering around him as if the merest touch would break him. It was too late, he was already broken at that point, which he tried to tell his boyfriend, but Simon wouldn’t listen, shaking his head and denying it again and again, tears rolling down his cheeks, broken, sobbing sounds catching in his throat. Behind the other man he saw Kelly leaving the room, calling out that she was just going to call the ambulance. 

It was hard to breathe, every movement sending agony sparking through him, but he still managed to catch at Simon’s hand, to stop his boyfriend’s flutterings, and to say, ‘I really like you Barry. I like you a lot. I’m glad we got to do all that stuff together and I’m sorry we never got to have anal sex. I would have liked to give my cherry to you.’ He’d thought it was all pretty important to say, even if it upset Simon even more, and at least it meant he got one final kiss pressed to his bloody mouth just before everything just _stopped_. 

When everything started up again he found himself sitting propped up in a chest freezer, Simon sitting on the floor beside him, whole body leaning exhaustedly against the side of the appliance, a hand softly stroking the side of his face, his hair, as silent tears rolled down his boyfriend’s cheeks. Also, he was wearing different clothes, because apparently he’d shat himself when he died and Simon had decided to clean him up before sticking him in the freezer. 

He really does have a considerate boyfriend.


End file.
